


Let It All Burn

by msheecstazy



Category: Naruto
Genre: Desk Sex, HashiMada, M/M, Oral, Penis Piercing, Reunion, Smut, Window Sex, ages apart, hashirama tattoed, madara bottom, madara's full of piercing, nipple percing, voyer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30067002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msheecstazy/pseuds/msheecstazy
Summary: Madara goes to work in a new company, and finds out that Hashirama, his love of the past is the head of his department. Neither of them speaks about the reunion, until one night, while working on backward affairs, Madara is surprised by Hashirama.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Let It All Burn

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally updating all my fanfictions in eng, so if you see my nickname a lot, that's that.   
> If there's any error, sorry. It's not my first language and I'm doing it fast.  
> Anyway, hope you like this one.

Hashirama's hair swayed as the strong wind stripped it, and Madara couldn't help wanting to cry. The brunette stroked his face and looked at him with such affection that it was impossible for the Uchiha not to feel the pain of the loss.

The daunting time of change has finally come, and Madara was forced to part ways with Hashirama, his boyfriend just over a year ago and a childhood friend.

The older man's house was across the street, parallel to his. When their feelings grew and Hashirama declared himself, Madara had the feeling that they were invincible. However, it did not happen that way.

Hashirama's parents moved to work in exactly the same year that they were graduating and about to start their desired colleges. Hashirama had to transfer the request to the city where his parents were going, so the two would no longer attend the same.

Madara did not accept the idea of having a long-distance relationship. He didn't have the blood for it, and Hashirama, knowing him perfectly, knew it. So there were no fights. They consented in silence and just enjoyed the days.

So far.

Madara kissed Hashirama fondly, thrusting his fingers into the hair that grew wildly - he tapped his shoulder now. He took the opportunity to sip what he could from Senju for the last time in who knows how long.

Hashirama twirled with the tip of his tongue at the piercing Madara had on his own, which made the Uchiha laugh. He was always tickled when the other did that.

Leaving and kissed him with a peck, Hashirama could hear his mother's car horn across the street. He looked at him and signaled a wait, turning to Madara one last time, hugging him tightly and giving him one last kiss on the forehead, trying hard to memorize it all.

"I'll call you when I get there," he said, and hurried off to his own home.

Madara did not stay there to watch him go. Instead, he snuck into his room and put on some loud music so as not to be distracted by the sounds outside.

After taking a few deep breaths and feeling more composed, the brunette started to pack his things. He was also going to the college he wanted. He had chosen the location to be able to do it with Hashirama, but after he left, Madara had no reason to attach himself to him, so he asked for a transfer to the one he wanted, in a city two hours from what he was at the moment, and three hours from Hashirama’s.

Focusing on packing all his belongings, Madara left all the photos, gifts and souvenirs of Hashirama in his old room. He put everything in a box and stuffed it on top of his wardrobe. They were separated, it was better to accept it soon.

Descending from the bench he used to place the object on top of the cupboard, Madara allowed himself to slide to the floor, and for the first and last time in his life, he cried himself to sleep.

***

Madara raised his eyebrows trying to understand why that memory had come to mind. Maybe it was the moving boxes.

He had unpacked his books and placed them on the shelf. Only the living room and kitchen were missing. Like any self-respecting bachelor, the bedroom and bathroom were priorities. Madara never cooked at all, so the kitchen could be bathed in boxes for a long time that would not even be needed.

The room took the same treatment because the Uchiha was almost never at home, and when he was, he usually stayed in bed.

But since it was a life change, not just work, Madara was making an effort to have a normal home.

He picked up the phone, quickly ordering food to go, and took care of the rest of the room. He would like to finish before midnight, after all tomorrow was his first day at the new company.

Madara was the new art director for a local magazine. He was going to start tomorrow, and he was feeling a little nervous. But not for the job itself, but for his life. He had gone to college in a neighboring town and stayed there for years. A little over ten. However, he never managed to get the job he wanted. He had been through some companies and never had that sense of accomplishment.

One night, drunk as a skunk, Madara had sent his resume and portfolio to various locations. Surprisingly, he had received three proposals. All in different cities. He chose the one he most admired.

And that was why he was trying so hard to change the way he lived his life. At the age of thirty-five, he needed to find a way or he would die drinking alone and occasionally visiting his brother.

Perhaps that act under the influence of alcohol was a sign. Then Madara threw himself. He accepted, moved, and now he was there, standing in front of the front door of the new apartment, paying for the restaurant order.

A brief sensation that he was not leaving the place seized him, but he shook his head and let it go. Sitting at the foot of the newly assembled sofa, he ate in silence.

When he was done, he threw it all away, brushed his teeth, separated the suit by hanging it on the door, and lay down on the new bed. He found himself thinking again about his first boyfriend until tiredness overcame him and he fell asleep.

The sunlight woke him even before the alarm clock. Madara was punctual, despite his sulky appearance. So there was no difficulty for the brunette to go to the bathroom to clean up.

The bath was brief, he washed his hair and dried it with a dryer, pinning it in a low ponytail.

He put on his suit then, adjusting his black jacket one last time before walking out the door.

Going to the garage, he fetched his corolla, unlocking it, settling in and leaving. It didn't take long, although he had to use the cell phone app to find himself in the new city, to get to the big building at the magazine's headquarters.

As it was his first time, as soon as he arrived at the department, he was asked to go up to another floor to take a photo to issue the identification badge.

This process took a good forty minutes. When finished, Madara was taken by a secretary to the office of the head of the entire department.

The walk from the corridor was long, with many people coming and going, which made that place a renowned place. Madara could feel the difference between that environment and everyone else he had worked with.

The secretary he still didn't know the name had stopped in front of the last door, at the end of the path. As if the end of that cul-de-sac was the chief's door. Madara felt himself in a video game having to face someone powerful. He laughed in silent, and watched the boy turn the handle.

When the door opened, Madara came across a man sitting behind a large dark table.

The man's eyes were focused on the paperwork under his fingers. His hair was long like his, but a beautiful shade of brown. The dark skin seemed to glow in a bronze so beautiful that it hurt Madara's soul.

He wore a gray, pinstripe suit. The dress shirt underneath and the tie looked a shade of dark red. Then he dropped the pen, spread his hands on the table top, taking impulse and stood up.

The wide smile filled the room like sunshine and Madara was instantly sucked in twelve years ago.

That _was_ Hashirama.

Hashirama, his first boyfriend; the boy who broke his heart was there, in front of him. And now he was a complete man. The sturdy, tall, stocky body contrasted with the sweet smile on his face. Hashirama's presence was powerful.

Madara stammered for a second before approaching and shaking your hands with his. Hashirama squeezed him back and then they both sat down. The secretary left and the Uchiha wanted to sink to the ground.

“Welcome”, he said.

His voice had become much thicker, but it still had the same timbre.

“Thanks.”

“I particularly liked your work, and I hope we got along well.”

He stood up still smiling, heading for the door. Madara followed him in silence. Hashirama walked with the Uchiha in pursuit for a few meters, until he stopped in front of an empty room.

“This is your office. I asked to be kept clean, and the documentation regarding the current project is already on his desk.”

“Thanks”, Madara repeated, like a broken record.

Someone interrupted the conversation by calling Hashirama for a conversation. He waved and started paying full attention to what was being said.

Madara stood for a few minutes, watching the scene. Until someone came to introduce themselves, claiming to be part of the art team. The Uchiha needed to put on their more social mask and keep their promise. That new life was going to be better.

It was a pity that Hashirama's presence seemed a bad omen.

***

Three weeks had passed. Madara had grown accustomed to the faces and names of everyone in the department.

His house was finally finished. There were even plants on the small balcony. He had been surprised at himself leaving the convenience store with two seedlings in his hand, but it was being an interesting experience.

About the days working alongside Hashirama, this had also come out better than he expected. They disagreed on a good dozen opinions, Madara had been respectfully confronted as well. In the end, the current project was in full swing, because when they started to come to an agreement, it flowed as if they had the same mind.

His co-workers showed reservations about his coarse manner and frowns, but they seemed to have understood that he was even docile, they should only approach him in the right way for this to happen.

Overall, Madara was getting along with her colleagues. He had even had lunch with them a few times during the current week.

Hashirama was like every self-respecting department head. Busy, accessible only for work related things. And he definitely didn't seem to have recognized the Uchiha. The two had spoken directly several times - sometimes even alone.

Senju showed nothing of recognition. Not even when Madara mentioned his high school during a conversation with some classmates while Hashirama was around.

After trying to see any reaction from the major during the first two weeks, the Uchiha gave up on that third.

Maybe it was for the best. His work life was taking the shape he always wanted when he graduated from college. There was no need to tarnish that new page with teenage desires to be remembered by a childhood ex-boyfriend.

Madara relaxed his back against the soft chair. The red fabric contrasted with the light tones of his entire room. He was big and comfortable. He accepted him form perfectly.

Turning his legs and forcing the chair to turn towards the glass wall, Madara loosened his tie.

Pulling the fabric with his two main fingers, he felt relief come instantly. Not that he was tight, but the compression on his chest made him feel physically suffocated.

The street outside was almost empty. The black sky with its stars hidden by the artificial lights of the sidewalks.

There was a layer of protection against light in that huge glass barrier, however if it got too close, someone outside would see its shadow and even its hand shape if it touched it.

Turning to face the table, he looked at the calendar and realized that it was Friday. So many things had been forgotten about that busy day.

His cell phone rang. It was a message from his colleagues asking him to drink at a bar two blocks away. Madara quickly replied that he couldn't go, since he had a few things to say.

Madara hated taking work home. So, he would stay there until morning if necessary. There was no business on Saturday, and luckily, no one would show up for any unnecessary reason to disturb him.

The communal kitchen was filled with coffee sachets and some scones. If needed, he would go down to the street and buy what he needed. The good thing about commercial buildings was that there was usually everything around. From his desk he was able to see a pharmacy and a bakery. That is, he was fully capable of turning around.

Shrugging, he stretched his arms and when he yawned he realized he needed coffee, strong and unsweetened.

He scanned the clock in the corner of the table and was surprised to see the time. It was almost half past eleven. That explained his sleep.

Madara moved into the kitchen. He turned on the electronic coffee maker, fitted the required amount of water and applied the sachet on the spot. He let it take effect as he drummed his fingers across the countertop.

When you're alone, three minutes seems like so much, Madara thought.

Then he noticed that there was a light on at the end of the department. Releasing the air, he realized that this was Hashirama's room.

Wondering if he was still there, Madara walked a few steps until he realized that he was going straight to the living room. Shaking his head, he realized the bullshit that would be since Hashirama had no idea that the two knew each other.

Retracing the steps taken, Madara concentrated on his coffee. It was ready and his cup overflowed, filled with the hot liquid.

Picking it up carefully, he blew on the edge for what felt like an entire hour. When he was warm enough, Madara took a sip of everything. The bitter taste of coffee was enough to wake him up again.

So he straightened the sleeves he had rolled up earlier, adjusting them again at the elbow. The tie was still loose, and he loved those lonely moments, as he could wear clothes comfortably.

Returning to the corridor, Madara took the short steps until he reached the door of his office. Stopping, he looked towards the end of the corridor and how that long, almost finite path was a perfect picture of his situation with Senju.

He was there, but he seemed quite unreachable.

Sighing in a regret that he didn't even know how to carry, Madara turned the handle, opening his door and facing his office, seeing that it was exactly as he had left it half an hour ago.

However, before he could turn around and close it, someone pulled him by the hair.

Madara felt the pressure instantly, the blow coming straight from the center of his ponytail. His body dangled towards the wall, aided by a pair of huge hands.

When he finally felt his torso hit the icy surface, Madara blew out a breath.

“Did you really think I would forget about you?”

The raven closed his eyes.

Hashirama's voice at the bottom of his ear, added to the rawness of the act, was enough for the strength in Madara's knees to suffer a significant loss.

“Ha-hashirama, what the fuck is that?”

“Don't be a beggar, Madara. How long would you go on pretending that we didn't know each other?”

The Uchiha cursed. Forcing his body out of that grip, he managed to turn around, but despite having his back against the wall instead of his face, he was still trapped in the middle of Hashirama's arms, who held him in place like prey.

“Do me a favor. You started it.”

Hashirama then laughed, with his head thrown back and everything. Madara looked at him strangely, his eyebrow drawn in disbelief. When the eldest finally finished, his bronze-colored face and amber eyes became serious and he approached Madara, who could feel the other's warm breath hit him well on the cheek.

“I missed you.”

Madara didn't even have time to think. Hashirama's pair of hands went straight to his face, holding him as if he were made of crystal, the counterpoint of the mouth that had found his in pure fury.

Trying to breathe and return that kiss, Madara allowed herself to lose himself in the heat of the tongue, in the warmth of that hug. Hashirama had cornered him even more, now his whole body was trapped against the plaster, and the brunette's covered his, heating him from all angles.

Shrugging, Madara realized that he had no reason to refute that act. He could very well delight in and take advantage of it. He had overcome Hashirama years ago, despite keeping him in a special place in his memories. The Uchiha finally decided to take advantage of that.

So he brought his hand up to Hashirama's groin, stroking his rigid sex. The hoarse moan against his lips was the source of his own erection.

Hashirama put aside modesty, now really kissing the brunette vigorously, his tongue digging inside as if he wanted to forge his shape inside him. Madara sighed with each contraction of their bodies. Hashirama's over your own, rippling through the meters of fabric, warming him as if he were under the sun.

Senju then just walked away. The expression was fierce in his eyes, his mouth bitten as if he were still in ecstasy made Madara growl.

It was then that the Uchiha was able to look at him for the first time in many days.

Everything was out of the ordinary there. During the weeks he had always been in a suit, impeccable, his loose hair always restrained, flowing elegantly over his shoulders.

Now he was wearing only his dress shirt and waistcoat. His hair was tossed to the side. His shirt sleeve was the same as his, bent to the elbows. It was then that Madara saw that he had tattoos on both sides. Marks without a pattern, as if they were brushstrokes of paint on one side, and flames on the other.

When Madara looked up at his free neck, he saw that the same mark on one arm was also there.

A wave of wild desire overcame him. Approaching urgently, he ignored the trembling fingers, forcing Hashirama to prop his ass against the desk top, and then opened the three buttons on his vest. As Senju passed him by the shoulders and allowed him to fall to the floor, Madara got involved with the white blouse.

When the last inch of skin was revealed, the brunette pushed the entire piece aside, giving him an overview of that incredible torso.

Madara gasped and cursed, cursing. In the center of Hashirama's breastplate were the words "Let it all burn" tattooed in large, sensual letters. Around the entire rib, shoulders and taking the neck, joining with those of the arms were there: brush marks and shadows of fire.

Stroking the entire torso with the tip of her finger, Madara smiled when he saw Hashirama squirm in a subtle shiver.

“This is more surprising than seeing you after twelve years.”

Hashirama's laugh was low and sensual.”

“Okay, okay. You’ve already explored. Now be a good boy and let me undress you.”

Madara looked out from under his lashes, the vision hazy.

“But I was getting to where it really matters...”

"It's thicker," he said condescendingly.

“Hm”, Madara smiled; duly pleased by the casual atmosphere of that conversation. “Let's see if it's true.”

Then the Uchiha reached out and began to unbuckle the belt, but Hashirama took him by surprise, pulling him onto his lap, holding him by the ass and walking to the other side of the room.

When they hit the glass, Hashirama swore, muttering some apology. Then he knelt down.

Madara chuckled and pulled him by the tie, forcing him to get up again, and kissed him with the same passion as before. Hashirama surrendered, masterfully returning that act, while his eager hands opened both the buttons on Madara's shirt and unzipped his tailoring pants.

When the Uchiha cut the kiss to look for air, Hashirama took advantage of the cue and explored his neck. Licking and biting, he marked Madara's clear skin with new red marks. Then he went down, nibbling and kissing the entire region of the shoulders and collarbone, until he reached one of the nipples.

Hashirama's tongue found something metallic, and he pulled away, stopping a second to look at Madara's nipple piercing.

The Uchiha smiled mischievously when he noticed that Senju noticed that he had the prop on both breasts.

“This is new.”

“Keep going and you’ll find more”, Madara replied.

Hashirama's face took on a new savage tone when he moved his mouth to the nearest nipple and licked it carefully, circling the tip of his tongue on the metal, making Madara moan his name in wail.

Hashirama lingered there for a while, making Madara need to grab the open part of the window sill, otherwise he would fall to the floor.

When Madara was about to plead, Hashirama began placing several hickeys around his belly, marking all the pale skin as it descended towards the edge of the open pants.

Senju's soft, warm fingers took Madara's concentration, and he was willing to continue holding on to that iron bar, the tile where the window fit hurt his fingers, but he couldn't care less.

Madara sighed when he felt the warm air of the room bathe his penis, now naked and erect in front of Hashirama's open mouth.

The latter held his balls, massaging them carefully, while his tongue came off and went towards the tip that became dripping the instant the contact was made.

Madara moaned long and huskily. Hashirama then swallowed his cock completely, his tongue caressing the body, feeling every nuance, every vein.

The raven was lost in that heat, and Senju now just licked, up and down his tongue around the stiffness, until he pulled away and took the hot, swollen meat in his hand, masturbating it and directing his mouth to the needy testicles .

Then Hashirama suddenly stopped, his gruff, dark laugh filling the void with a tone of approval so clear that Madara almost slipped.

"I think I did," he said, running his tongue over the piercing that was on the partition between the end of the penis and the balls.

He sucked the metal with a little force, just to make Madara feel a hint of discomfort. Then he paid attention to the pair of twins, but not without first removing the pants from Madara's leg, as well as the shoes.

When the Uchiha was finally naked from the waist down, Hashirama gave due attention, sucking and licking the balls, returning to the penis, stopping at the head, sucking hard there, surrounding the opening tongue. He sucked it with his cheeks, sank his cock to the end of his throat and held it there for a while.

Madara would forget his name if it continued, the heat spreading over his body now gathering at the head of the cock, ready to gush in all its glory.

However, Hashirama realized and deprived him. Pinching where the piercing was, Senju looked up, looking for Madara, just to give him one of those falsely innocent smiles.

Then Hashirama stuck a finger in his mouth, making a point of licking it looking at Madara, showing movements equal to what he was doing previously in the Uchiha's sex, forcing him to feel jealous. Then Hashirama turned his attention to the head, licking it slowly as his finger entered Madara's rigid body.

Carefully, he moved the tip of the indicator in a circular motion. Madara could feel his center moving away, beginning to allow his finger to fully enter.

Still having his cock swallowed by Hashirama's soft mouth, Madara could feel him add a second. Then a third. When he put the room in, the Uchiha scolded:

“Just fuck me, Hashirama!”

The brunette stood up at once, opening his pants, holding his own cock boldly.

“First, lick it.”

Madara rolled his eyes and spat a sufficient amount of saliva into the palm of his hand, where she then stroked the dark phallus, making it properly slippery.

Looking at Hashirama with a defiant expression, it was no surprise when he had his face thrown against the window glass and his butt brutally reared.

Hashirama got in hard. His dick going straight to the bottom, beating Madara's right spot in moments.

The Uchiha couldn't stand it. His pleasure spurted against the glass wall, the waves of pleasure intensified, becoming almost infinite as Hashirama whipped him from behind.

Seeking air as if he were submerged, Madara tried to adjust himself, his face was pressed against the window, his breath causing steam, the smell of coffee reaching his own nostrils. His hands tried in vain to keep holding the doorframe, his fingers almost raw through the poorly made space.

However, Hashirama did not give him a breach. Now he moved one of his legs apart, changing the angle and forcing the thick, heavy sex deeper into him. Madara moaned without control, the puffs on the glass being the only thing he saw...

Until he realized that there were people on the street and that they were making noise, and that those windows were not one hundred percent armored. At night he could see everything on the street from the right angle.

“Hashirama” he called. The voice shrieked by the position and the movements inside. “There’s people”, another powerful onslaught. “Ah! There are people on the street...”

Senju bowed, lowering Madara's leg, leaving him on all fours, supporting himself only by both arms. He held the Uchiha's forgotten and hardened penis again and stroked it as he lunged in slow, circular motions, forcing Madara to feel every inch of his beautiful cock.

A person in the street looked up and Madara's eyes widened. Hashirama stepped up the charge, forcing the Uchiha to moan and draw more attention from the small group eight floors below.

Then someone pointed at them and Madara blushed from head to toe, despite being trapped, impassive to move as Hashirama filled it.

The brunette closed his eyes, just giving up and giving himself up to the pleasures that Hashirama provided him.

"Open your eyes," he ordered. “They're seeing you.”

Senju held him by the waist, lifting his shirt up, and his circumference was small close to the brunette's hands that took him almost by the entire torso in a single footprint.

Madara grunted, a low sound coming from his throat as Hashirama licked his neck, nibbled on his earlobe and finally whispered:

“Now, enough of showing you off.”

In a single movement, Hashirama pulled the elastic that held Madara's hair, then, as if he was used to doing that, grabbed the brunette by the strings, forcing him to kneel and turn his back to the window, forcing him to remember where and with whom you were.

“And now you're going to suck.” Hashirama ordered, taking the Uchiha by the chin and imposing the pink lips to open. “Yes, open that mouth wide.”

Directing his own penis, Hashirama sank it in one motion.

Madara gasped. His eyes were filling with tears as it was difficult to get air through his nose. Hashirama held him there for a second or two, the grip on his hair still firm.

When he was satisfied, he removed the stick completely, allowing Madara to recover. Then he caressed the smaller cheek and started to fuck the Uchiha's mouth for real.

Entering and leaving slowly, allowing the small cave to support all its thickness without hurting the piercing that was on the tongue.

Hashirama's moaning and shaking were too much for the youngest.

Madara was ecstatic. Kneeling on the floor, his knees creaked from discomfort. However, the brunette found himself thinking about how a decade changed a person. The sex they had as teenagers was nothing like that.

As he looked up, Madara absorbed Hashirama's expression of delight. He absorbed the beauty of that tanned body and those tattoos so masculine that they adorned him through the protruding muscles.

Hashirama removed the penis after plunging to the bottom of the Uchiha's throat one last time. Then, as if he was feeling the same nostalgia, he made Madara stand up and gave him an intense kiss.

Hashirama's tongue tangled in his accessory, causing a slight shiver in the smaller one, who now felt his hands spread over his buttocks and forcing them to rise.

Giving a small boost, Madara found herself in Hashirama's lap for the second time. Now with the huge sex again forcing its way in and sliding with ease.

Forcing the body down, he allowed himself to sink into the stiffness, letting it fill him up.

The two hugged and moaned in unison.

Hashirama then went astray for a few moments, just fucking him on his feet, moving Madara's body up and down as best he could.

When he realized, the Uchiha was beside his desk.

Hashirama moved the adorned arm to the side, pushing all papers, pens and the like to the floor. The noise made Madara laugh. Then he was deposited carefully on the top, his back lying on the cold surface without even blinking.

Then Hashirama caught him by the ankles, forcing his legs up, placing his knees on his shoulder.

The brunette was biting his lip, as if Madara's vision was an oasis. Then the penetration took place again. Gross, intense. Cruel.

Madara shouted Hashirama's name as he felt him fuck him with punitive blows. The noise of the hips crackling around the hollow room.

The Senju was reaching its limit and Madara knew it by sweat and expression. That, at least, had not changed.

Madara smiled when he noticed this detail, then he held one of his thighs with one hand and started to masturbate the forgotten penis with the other. Pleasure stirring your insides, warming your mind and taking away your gravity.

“Hashirama, I'm going to come!” he screamed.

The brunette's growl and frantic hip movement was enough for Madara to get lost. The second orgasm snatched him like a hurricane.

The pressure came from all sides: in the balls, in the shoulders, in the neck.

In the background, Madara heard Hashirama call out his name, but all he could feel was the warmth of the brunette's joy filling him, the sensation of his own orgasm fading and the air around him becoming less thin.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hashirama returned to normal breathing, having lifted his head and looked back at him with a satisfied smile.

The Senju finally moved away, the penis now softened, leaving easily the interior of Madara, who in the instant that it turns empty, let all the excess of pleasure run out, soiling the desk and the inside of the Uchiha's legs.

He swore and Hashirama went to the private bathroom to bring him some paper. Thanking her for the gesture, Madara cleaned herself up in silence, throwing the remains in the trash that was still intact beside her desk.

Hashirama was almost fully dressed when Madara went hunting for his pants.

“I liked your tattoos” the Uchiha commented when buttoning the blouse.

“I did it as soon as I graduated.”

“Hm...”

A minute of silence passed. Both now dressed, the table rearranged. The window closed.

The two of them for the first time seemed genuinely at a loss as to how to proceed. It would make Madara smile if it weren't so unusual.

Leaving the floor they worked on, the men entered the elevator. The descent was fast and efficient.

They were now passing through the arch, heading for the exit.

And then they were on the street, ready to go to opposite destinations.

"I'm hungry," Madara commented.

“I know a place twenty-four hours nearby. Wanna go?”

Madara agreed and the two of them walked through the night.


End file.
